


I'm Made Up Of Million Little Pieces Of You...

by goldenboat



Series: Our story in Sunrises and Sunsets... [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bottom Castiel, Daddy Castiel, Daddy Dean, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Journalism, Journalist Dean, Kidfic, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Non-Graphic Violence, Post Mpreg, Professor Castiel, Protective Dean, Romance, Smart Castiel, Smart Dean, Terrorism, Top Dean, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-10-07 07:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10355061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenboat/pseuds/goldenboat
Summary: They all say that matches are made in heaven. In Castiel and Dean's case, it was made across the fence. They grew up as neighbours, went on to become best friends and ultimately lovers and husbands. Dean is a renowned journalist and Castiel is a college professor. This is their story.Castiel is released from hospital after his aneurysm, Dean leaves no stone unturned to take care of his ailing husband. They have always belonged together...and the tender moments that follow only seems to confirm that.But life as always has a strange way of interfering.Why do the most beautiful questions in the world have no answers?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a figment of my imagination. All mistakes are mine. Reviews are love.

Life sure is strange.

Most of Castiel’s colleagues never fail to bemoan their flawless health or lack of reasons to spend blissful hours in bed thereof.

“You gotta milk it for all its worth!” They often say.

He himself has rarely been sick.

It has less to do with his “bull like constitution” (Dean’s word not his) and more to do with the constant realization that a tiny being solely depends on him for survival.  
His situation has forced him to unwillingly watch his health….to look for tiny symptoms that most people happily overlook…and begrudgingly visit the doctor at the first notice.

Because he knows that if he falls sick….it’s his baby who will suffer.

So it’s not surprising that his bed-rest is not agreeing with him.

It’s been two weeks since he was discharged from hospital with a bag of prescription meds and some admonishments of taking it easy.

Two weeks since his world unravelled with a nightmare.

A lot has changed since then.

The biggest of them has been Dean,  
Dean’s here.

You may call Castiel stupid but he’s still finding it hard to get over the fact that Dean’s hasn’t left yet.

Hasn’t packed his bag and left with another major assignment in some other godforsaken country.

Old habits apparently die hard.

Last two weeks have passed like a beautiful dream….despite his health scare and all its perks.

It’s like one of those dreams that make you reluctant to open your eyes. You want to float in its heady sensation stuck between wakefulness and slumber even after it’s over.  
Dean has rarely left his bedside.

He has spent nearly every moment wrapped around Castiel….as if trying to absorb all the morbid remnants of the horrific nightmare that caused all this in the first place…..  
….. all his niggling self-doubts, fears and anxieties.

And the truth is…..

It’s working.

Castiel hasn’t been this worry free for a long time.

Dean has a very unique way of taking care of his ailing husband.

It carefully treads the threshold of protectiveness and yet stops right before it transforms into over coddling.

It’s like Dean has an invisible fingertip over Castiel’s nerves at all times, as if he intrinsically knows the inner workings of Castiel’s restless mind and leaves no stone unturned to make sure he’s within reach.

The curtains of their bedroom has been drawn up in such a way that the couch of the living room is visible from the bed.

Castiel’s isn’t sure who moved the couch in this manner…..but he can make a guess.

This way….he can see Dean even when his husband isn’t next to him.

In these last two weeks, he has passed many a moment stealing surreptitious glances at Dean while the other is working away in his laptop….feet firmly planted on the table in front of the couch.

Too many times Dean would become aware of Castiel’s incessant staring. Green eyes would melt into blue ones across the room and Dean would saunter in and wrap himself around Castiel.

These moments would be wordless.

With so many unsaid words hanging in the air between them with an effortless ease, silence would be the chosen medium of communication.  
The changes in room settings happened in the first two days of Castiel’s return.

The remnants of the horrific nightmare clung to his eyelids stubbornly. On the top of that, the multitudes of drugs in his system had wreaked havoc on his inner defences that he had tenaciously built up over the years.

He was still having mighty trouble of differentiating dream from reality.

His mind had lost all its precious coherence and was voicing all his repressed thoughts in a myriad ways.

May be …the Dean lying still in the coffin is true.  
May be….the Dean sitting at his bedside in the hospital is a figment of his imagination.  
May be….his life has ended after all.

It took Dean quite a bit to convince Castiel that he was real.

It wasn’t a problem in his lucid moments. But these moments were scarce.

Under drug induced delirium, the leftovers of the nightmare reigned.

It was Dean who came up with the idea of making subtle alterations in room settings….so that he was visible to Castiel at all times.

So when Dean is not in their room….Castiel can actually see or at least hear him.

Running after their rambunctious toddler……reading newspaper on the couch….puttering in their tiny kitchen…or talking to the mailman.

For that Castiel, it seemed a necessity.

But the Castiel of today is beyond mortified. A thinly veiled voice within him keeps on whispering that he has let Dean down….

He has always prided himself for being Dean’s rock… Dean’s words, not his.

It’s his inner insecurities that has stolen Dean’s rock….his entire support system…his dreams.  
And he can never forgive himself for that.

“No…you didn’t.” Someone murmured from somewhere near him …startling Castiel from his reverie.

Wasn’t Dean talking to the mailman? It seems he has teleported himself to Castiel’s side at the first hint of his inner turbulence.  
God.

Has he been talking aloud? Castiel couldn’t help but ponder.

“No….you weren’t.”

It was Dean again ….prompting a furious blush on the cheeks of his husband.

It’s always disconcerting to realize that Dean can actually chill inside Castiel’s head….as if he belongs there.

Castiel wraps himself around Dean….burrowing his face in that enticing crook of Dean’s neck. It has been his favourite escape route whenever conversations seem to tax on his last reserve.

Dean smiles in response.

His quite laughter reverberates through Castiel’s body prompting a shiver. Castiel knows the reason behind it.

He’s hiding from Dean…in Dean himself. If that’s not an irony…..nothing is.

It takes Dean some effort to wrest Castiel from his nook. And even then Castiel’s eyes make every effort not to meet Dean’s green ones.

“It’s not really hard to guess what you are thinking Cas.” Dean whispers as he kisses Castiel’s slack lips.

“I’m all you think about….”There’s something in Dean’s tone that makes Castiel look up at him from his chosen refuge.  
Dean’s staring at him.

Normally Castiel can read him like a book.

They both can.

It has been a long time since they realized that they have this uncanny ability to read each other….to the point of pain.

They can actually finish each other’s sentences….Even the unsaid ones.

However romantic it may seem in stories….it’s really anything but.

However it has a plus side.

Dean has never been able to hide anything from Castiel.

Until now that is.

Castiel….as it seems… has lost his touch when he needs it the most.

Dean is looking at Castiel with this strange closed off gaze that betrays nothing.

He’s looking …but not really looking at Castiel. It seems as if Castiel’s a translucent veil and Dean’s gaze is piercing through it straight ahead.  
And it scares Castiel to no end.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice shakes as it tries to rouse his husband from his reverie.

It seems it’s not Castiel’s words in itself but the desperation in it that does the trick. Dean’s face clears off in an instant.

“Dean?” Castiel holds the freckly cheeks within his palms and brings it down till they are breathing in the same intimate air.

There’s something special about these moments. Something intangible and sacred. With words hanging in the air….unsaid and true…..silence seems to latch on and smoothen the creases on the edges of their bond.

Castiel knows he needs to open up. He has bottled up everything for far too long….and there’s no better moment as now. He grabs Dean by his shoulders and reverses their position in one swift move….and Dean suddenly finds himself in the bottom.

“Hey.” He murmurs again.

Cyan eyes melt into green ones as Castiel’s broken voice crashes into Dean’s consciousness.

“What’s the matter Cas?” Dean cups the face he loves so much within the palm of his hands…

This tiny gesture is supposed to make it easier for Castiel…but it makes words even harder. Dean is looking up at him with such hopeful eyes….bursting with love.  
What is Castiel supposed to say?

“Dean ...I don’t want you to stay?”

Or should it be…

“Dean I’ve really sucky self-worth issues and you need to leave so that I can prove to myself that I can still handle everything on my own?”

Castiel finds himself at loss of words just like ever.

He decides to voice the worst of his fears.

“Dean? Don’t change. Please?” That’s what scares him the most….Dean giving up a part of himself for Castiel.

Dean’s different. He has a greater calling than others like him who live within the clichéd cycle of work, play and sleep.

Dean’s a dreamer. He has a vision of a world far beyond the comprehension of others.

 Castiel will die if Dean ceases to be Dean.

He opens his lips to say something only to be shushed by a callused fingertip.

“You and I….will not contrive….a heavenly game…in this mortal lair.  
We'll not be trapped…by tearful songs…we'll hold no charm …for cupid's snare.  
For you and I…thrive fearless by…the knowledge 'We are'…in the life we share.  
We shall hoist….in fateful cause…the flag of love…and choose to dare.  
When life is brisk…we seek no peace…but grace the pain…and do forbear.  
If the sea is rough…and the sailing tough…we'll stand by us…as death looms near…”

Dean’s words are permeating across his senses like drops of water on a scorched earth. Castiel knows this poem. Its words are something he has lived by ever since he has had Dean.

Since forever.

He didn’t realize he’s crying until Dean kisses his eyelids.

The green eyed man brings Castiel’s face infinitely closer to his so that his breath is ghosting across Castiel’s ears.  
He whispers the rest….

“For you and I…thrive fearless by…the knowledge 'We are'…in the life we share.”

Castiel finds himself too choked up to speak.

Dean has never been the one for roses and candle light dinners….walks across the beach or long drives under a starlit sky.  
Dean loves Castiel by sharing his world with him.

Until Dean, Castiel was perfectly content leading his life within a cosy little circle….happy with his own ambitions and dreams and not at all concerned with the wider world beyond.  
Dean blew it to pieces.  
His arrival in Castiel’s life made him conscious of humanity beyond his grasp….of people he never knew….of countries he hardly bothered about….  
Of turmoil he wouldn’t have otherwise cared.

Castiel still remembers their first Valentine’s Day.

When all of Castiel’s friends were planning romantic getaways with their better halves….Castiel suddenly found himself signed up for a Humanitarian Aids group to Haiti.  
It was the year when Haiti had an earthquake of a devastating magnitude.

Castiel like most others was perfectly content with giving it a cursory glance on TV screen while surfing channels…. sparing it an occasional thirty seconds of grief if he felt like it.  
It was Dean who was covering Haiti that year when it was hit with a catastrophic magnitude 7.0 Mw earthquake.  
Just like always, Dean refused to watch the rescue operations from the side lines like other journalists. Once he returned home, he signed himself and Castiel as volunteers in Red Cross relief operations.

That was Castiel’s first Valentine’s gift.

There was no quaint candle light and roses for him. No hushed words and soft kisses.

Yet Castiel wouldn’t change it for the world.

For…on a day when all his friends were busy in their private celebrations….Castiel and Dean stood hand in hand inside the biggest relief camp in Port-au-Prince.  
Thousands of kids were falling victims in massive cholera outbreak after the earthquake….and Castiel couldn’t help but feel apologetic at his own short-sightedness.  
Gifts and romantic dinners seemed to pale in comparison.

They had back breaking jobs tasks throughout the day just like other volunteers…tending the sick…helping the medical personnel in every way possible.  
They forgot everything else.

But the kiss they shared at the end of each one surpassed anything Castiel had ever experienced.  
That’s his Dean.

Castiel lives Dean every moment ….and he doesn’t know what he would do if things changed….if Dean suddenly thought he needed to change for Castiel.

“Thinking loudly again …” It was Dean’s voice that shattered his musings.

Dean is looking at him with eyes full of mischief, and Castiel finds himself smiling in spite of himself.

“Was thinkin ‘bout Haiti…” Castiel buries himself in Dean’s warmth.

“We shared a bunk bed.” Came the amused reply.

Dean’s laughter proves contagious as Castiel joins in. He pokes his husband’s stomach in lieu of his answer, shaking his head in fond exasperation.  
Yeah…

Dean actually spearheaded an entire relief effort and sharing a bed with Castiel is the only thing he finds worth remembering.

Two six plus male in a single bed , stolen kisses and furtive hand jobs to top it off.

“Wanna take you there again someday.” Dean mused absentmindedly producing a big smile in Castiel’s lips.

“Really ?” Castiel looked like a kid before Christmas. He smiled as a beautiful inner imagery assaulted his senses. Him and Dean…hand in hand in an unknown land,  for a cause near to their hearts.

Dean lowered both of them till they are lying on a single pillow, face to face…nose apart.

“Just get well soon Cas. Wanna give you the world.” He kisses Castiel on the forehead and murmurs .

And just like that Castiel crashes to the ground at the literalness of the words.

Dean has the world.

He had it until Castiel failed him with his own insecurities. He can’t even begin to perceive what he’s forcing Dean to give up.

The world.

Everything that Dean has dreamed of since he was old enough to dream.

He’s forcing Dean to bend backwards, from something that rightfully belongs to him.

It’s true he wants Dean with him. There’s nothing he wants more. But until now he never realized what Dean would have to lose to be with Castiel.

The world.

“Stop thinking so much Cas. Everything’s all right. I swear.” As if mindful of Castiel’s inner turmoil…Dean gathers him within his arms.  
Sleep is a great pacifier.

It evens out the odds and smoothens out all the wrinkled edges of our consciousness. It washes away the guilt that has gathered about….and paints life in bright hopeful shades.  
Even if temporarily.

The sleeping Castiel is at peace at last.  
He hasn’t clipped Dean’s soaring wings mid-flight. He hasn’t chained Dean’s dreams.  
In sleep , he finds Dean flying high, with Castiel by his side.

 

********************************************************************

Castiel’s son is a pintsized traitor.

Yes…that’s what he is. He smiles inwardly at the ridiculous comparison.But that’s the only word that comes to him as he watches the spectacle unfold before him.

It’s officially breakfast time in Winchester household…even though Josh has been up since four in the morning just like always…their own little rooster.

Dean has taken over the task of feeding the baby and Castiel can’t help but feel jealous at how smoothly it’s going so far.

“Don’t make a mess…okay kiddo?” Dean gently advises their son who angelically nods his head while eating a banana.

“Goobbaa! Deedee goobba!” The little boy babbles.

It prompts a gentle laughter from both fathers whose eyes shine with barely concealed amusement.

“Yeah Kiddo…Good Boy!” Dean grinned.

Josh goes back to his food without a hitch.

Yes.

Last time Castiel tried this….Josh ended up wearing his meal. He had mashed banana in ten different places of his body.  
Castiel counted.

Bath time had been anything but fun, with a hyperactive puppy for a son and an exhausted dad.

Josh is totally gone for his Dee just like Castiel himself. It always makes him smile.

Throughout the day, their son follows Dean like a lovesick puppy. Chubby little fingers clutching whatever part of his Dee he finds available. Back of his jeans, tee-shirt, fingers or legs….  
Or hanging from his neck like a spider monkey.

It always makes him realize how much his baby misses Dean.

He looks down on the table and realizes that their pancakes are getting cold.

Dean’s busy with their little munchkin and Castiel’s too engaged in watching them to focus on breakfast. He spears a pancake with his fork and extends it towards Dean, who accepts it with a knowing grin.

The breakfast goes smoothly after that…as soon as Castiel takes over the task of feeding himself and Dean.

Wonder of wonders….their baby goes down for his mid-morning nap without a hitch.

“You gotta share the secret with me….you know?” Castiel murmurs once they are lazing on the ratty old couch.

“Huh?” Answered Dean from somewhere behind Castiel.

Really…heaven would freeze before Dean gives up his position of the big spoon.

 “Dean…the baby whisperer.” Castiel poked his husband’s ribs eliciting a childlike giggle.

“You’re forgettin to add Cas whisperer….” Strong arms encircle him from behind as Dean’s tone washes over Castiel.  
“Yeah….that too.” Castiel closes his eyes.

He’s too blissed out to lie or protest.

Dean’s scent is embracing him like beautiful morning breeze and Castiel at last finds that elusive thing he had been searching for so long.  
At least for some time.

Inner peace.

They had spent the better part of the day lazing on the couch just like they always do.

It’s officially bedtime, even though Castiel has spent ninety percent of last two weeks in bed and it’s losing its charm.

The end of Castiel’s medical leave is looming closer and he’s sure Dean has used up all his leaves as well. However sweet these days might seem….they both have to return to their jobs shortly.

Castiel looks down at the exam papers on his lap and gives a forlorn sigh.

These have been delivered at his doorstep this afternoon and have formally signalled his return to the real world.  
Dean’s as well.

He’s sure he can convince Dean not to make any major changes as of yet. Dean belongs to the world as much as he belongs to Castiel. He won’t let him give up his most cherished dream so quickly.

Waking up to Dean’s sleeping face every morning is what Castiel’s dreams are made of.

Last two weeks were part of that beautiful dream…and Castiel has ravenously soaked up every moment of it.  
He wants to have Dean every day….to feel him at each dawn and daybreak….to fight with him like every other couple without constantly eying the table calendar on the bedside table...to finally get rid of the nasty habit of counting days ….  
…to sail effortlessly in life secure with the knowledge that Dean will return home each afternoon.

But their life isn’t about what Castiel wants.

He had fallen in love with Dean in his entirety…

He has loved the Dean who stays close just as acutely as the Dean who leaves him. Dean’s dreams are his as well.

His husband has worked hard all his life to be what he is today.

And Castiel won’t let anyone crush it, not even Dean.  
He won’t let Dean settle for anything else till everything clears off, till the fear of Castiel’s ill-health and insecurity looms large in the air around them, till Dean is driven by a misplaced guilt over something he hasn’t even done in the first place.

 

*****************  
It’s rare for Dean to be awake at this hour of the day.

Hell…he doesn’t even remember the last time he had been awake at this early hour when he’s home. Cuddling with a pliant sleep-warm Cas is too much of a temptation to resist.  
Normally he would be entwined with Castiel much like an inseparable vine, sharing the same intimate space in every conceivable way.

But right now sleep’s an elusive mistress,  playing hard to get.

Castiel is blissfully asleep on him, lulled by the steady rise and fall of Dean’s chest.

His fingers are carding through Castiel’s hair in an unconscious gesture long borne out of habit. It’s probably soothing him more than Castiel himself.  
It’s moments like these that make him ache fiercely for everything he has missed.

Never in a million years would he wish harm on Castiel. His Cas is his life. But in spite of that he’s thankful for Castiel’s aneurysm.

If Dean hadn’t been blindsided by its suddenness, he would have continued to sail through life with half a picture, with half of Castiel, the half that always smiled….that pretended to be okay…that waved him goodbye in the airport with a huge grin.

In all these years he had never seen the other side of his husband….the side that’s insecure and bloody scared. Castiel has been able to flawlessly hide it beneath his sunny exterior until it tore along the seams and burst open before Dean’s own eyes.

His gaze drops once again on the inconspicuous brown envelop resting on his lap. It’s an official mail from Missouri Moseley, VP and Managing Editor of BBC Worldwide.  
Effective from the next financial year, Dean will manage and oversee BBC's multi-platform news gathering operations from the Middle-East and South-East Asia. He will be based in New York…his and Castiel’s home. His appointment as the Bureau Chief of BBC Worldwide’s operational headquarters in New York has something to do with the fact that Robert Singer is finally taking up the reigns as the Editor-In-Chief of the channel leaving his place vacant.

Crowley and Bobby had put strong recommendations for Dean to Ms. Moseley, and the fact that she  herself is an alumnus of Dean’s Alma mater Stanford helped.  
She had personally overseen quite a few of Dean’s notable projects due to her keen interest in Middle-Eastern politics and had been full of praises for each of them.

Although Dean shouldn’t be kidding. He knows as well as anyone that it was his resume and credentials as much as anything else that made the upper-management of his media house zero in on Dean for the job.

But here’s the kicker.

It’s not the first time he had been offered the job. Some years back he had been offered a similar position in their headquarters in Dallas.

The Dallas bureau is not as important as the New York one, but the offer was quite lucrative. But Dean was the rising face in international news journalism and the thought of being cooped up in one place rather than witness the news first hand made him claustrophobic.

Castiel encouraged him to follow his heart just like always,  warm hugs and big smiles and all.

Dean had been reluctant to leave Castiel and was on the verge of accepting it.

But Castiel being Castiel refused to let his husband do anything against his heart.

Dean is quite sure the saga is gonna repeat itself.

But there is one difference.

Dean isn’t going against his heart this time around.

He’s still goin to miss the thrill of chasing the headlines. But it will be a challenge to fill in the shoes of someone like Bobby.  
And Dean loves challenges.

Even more than that, he’s gonna be with Castiel everyday.

Life blooms before him in bright hopeful colors.

He’s gonna have his fill with everything he has missed so far.  
Cas and his baby.

Dean looks down at his slumbering husband and gently kisses his forehead. It’s time to get up. He has to meet Ms. Moseley in a couple of hours.

He gently shakes the man snoring on his chest and smiles when Cas crinkles his nose cutely.

“Cas?”

“Hmmm?” Comes the reluctant half-awake answer from the man on his chest.

“I hafta go…. Got a meeting in an hour.” Dean brushes the rumpled hair from his husband’s sleep warm forehead.

That gets Castiel’s attention in an instant. His eyebrows fuse in their usual anxious way as he stares a while before answering.

Dean knows what he’s thinking. Castiel’s probably thinking that he’s gonna meet Crowley to discuss about his next assignment.

He’s right.

“Crowley?” Comes the hushed answer. It seems that Castiel is still grappling with the suddenness of events and Dean rushes to soothe him.

“Nope. The Vice-President.” Dean kisses the slack lips again to distract Castiel from his erratic thoughts...

Castiel sighs into the kiss. Once it’s over , he burrows himself in Dean once again.

He has to speak up, and meeting Dean’s eyes is still something he still finds hard.

‘Dean? You can go you know? I’ve got a clean bill of health now…isn’t it? No need to worry and hold off work for me. You should go.” Castiel speaks from somewhere inside Dean’s neck and his voice is muted as a result.

Castiel closes his eyes and swallows….

He has just told Dean that he’s not needed…and Dean hasn’t responded yet. It’s ominous.

But when Dean speaks….he surprises Castiel.

“You can’t make me go baby. If you push me out….I’m gonna tent in the backyard.”

“Whah?” Castiel stutters as he struggles to detach himself from his husband’s limbs and sit up. Dean’s gone crazy for sure.

“Not goin. Nada. Nope. You can’t make me..” Dean shakes his head mimicking their little son .

And he begins again

“We have so many fights to catch up on you know?…..and make up sex?” Dean gives a sly grin.

“We gotta have those too.”

“Go on our second honeymoon….make another munchkin with you and see you waddle all over again…” Dean finishes in a childish giggle as the picture of a pregnant Castiel invades his senses.

Castiel shakes his head in fond exasperation. He opens his mouth but is quickly hushed with a finger on his lips.  
“Hafta get ready Cas. We’ll talk when we return okay ?” A kiss and Dean’s off.

Soon Dean zooms off.

Castiel buries into the pillow that smells like his husband and smiles.

Something feels so right this time…as if there’s a sudden gust of fresh air somewhere within and that old claustrophobic feeling is all gone.  
He isn’t exactly sure what changed.

Castiel falls into a relieved slumber ….Josh tucked under his arms. Dean had cleverly lifted the sleeping toddler from his crib and brought him to Castiel…so that he doesn’t need to get up when Josh wakes up from his morning nap.

Dean was talking about a meeting….and it leaves Castiel pondering. Meeting at this early hour could mean a lot of things.  
God. He can’t wait for Dean to return.  
*********************

It was around ten in the morning that when iphone chimes.

Dean.

“Dean? When’ll you be back?” Castiel answers in a rush. Dean's a worry wart...and is callin to see if Castiel's okay for sure.

The meeting’s over then.

“Family of Dean Winchester?”

 

The shrill unfamiliar voice shatters his inner peace in a nano second.

Why does a stranger have Dean’s phone?

“Who’s this? Why do you have my husband’s phone?” Castiel extricates himself from his toddler’s grasp and struggles to get up from the bundle of blankets one handed.  
Something’s not right….and he feels himself shaking.

“There’s been an accident.”

The rest of the words were blur. Every once in a while words like accident, drunk driver, DUI, collision, hospital, head injury filtered across his consciousness.  
The man repeats the hospital address in an impassive intonation and Castiel nods robotically.

He doesn’t know what to feel.  
***************************  
Hollow.

That’s what Castiel’s feeling right now.

It’s just like his nightmare….the one that spurred their fate into action. The one that brought Dean back to him.

Is Dean going to die…..only for real this time?

The last thing that Castiel said to Dean burns into his heart.

“You should go.”

Dean wanted to stay and Castiel asked him to go.

Is it gonna be the last thing he ever tells his husband?

As the broken man haphazardly puts on a crumpled t-shirt over his jeans, he feels surreal.

There’s so many things he hasn’t told Dean yet.

So many feelings unsaid and unexpressed….so many wordless moments left unshared….

Another munchkin….

And Castiel breaks down crying.

“I…..I can’t. I can’t….” He mumbles….all his mighty efforts to prove himself strong enough to live without Dean suddenly vanishing into thin air.  
His minds plays on those words like a broken record on an eternal loop.

He can’t live without Dean.

“You can’t make me go.” Dean had whispered.  
He tried to show Dean that he’s strong….and that’s burning him alive.

He picks up his sleeping baby and the diaper bag…. and looks for the car keys in the drawing room.  
He has to go to Dean.

 


End file.
